Heart & Hallucination

Summa

2010-07-11T17:31:00.000-04:00

Something outside just smelled like something from elementary school summer time. I can't even pinpoint the memory exactly but it brought me right back to being 9 or 10....maybe off to watch a friend's soccer game, maybe spending time in Saddlebrook at my old pal Annie's place, listening to Better Than Ezra and The Gin Blossoms and Annie Lennox and being silly in her basement. Whatever it was, I'm glad it snuck up on me.

I'm trying desperately to enjoy summer in a more summery way, as ever year I let it slip by me somehow. Yesterday was Warped Tour, and I had a great day taking in bands like Face to Face (what?! never though I'd see them!) and Bouncing Souls (be still my heart, I nearly cried again) Casualties (so sad my sister missed them again) and my friends in Dig It Up!. I got a tan, and only a few spots were burned where I missed with the sun screen. Spent some time with C...I'm learning to let things go I think.

And now in the spirit of being extremely random and saying "yes!" more often, I'm headed off to the oratory to walk the steps with Casey. It's one way to embrace phase two of this Montreal heatwave.

Telling them

2010-07-09T14:50:00.001-04:00

I don't ask you for much. And I feel silly asking for anything now, and I'm not even going to outright ask for what I want. But I do ask for you to keep an eye on me in the next little while, and keep my head on even ground and help me deal with the disappointment that might come from what I'm trying to do. Help me understand that everything happens or does not happen for a reason, and that it's not the end of the world if things don't go as I have them all dreamed up to go in my head...thank you.

* * *

So, Social Distortion is coming around once again. They're skipping Montreal it seems, I guess because they're playing in Quebec City next weekend (and I can't go :( ) they feel they don't need to stop here. It broke my heart pretty bad for awhile.

But then I got the idea to go see them in Toronto....Nadia's going to be living there for grad school, so I'll have someone to go with. I'll be poor as anything since I'm going back to school for my teaching degree...but honestly I'll starve and walk the whole way to and from class just to afford a ticket and transport there. That band means the whole world to me.

I messaged KGB about it but he has yet to write back. And I can't help but get my hopes up that he'll want to go, and we'll road trip just like we did last summer to see them in Vermont. Except this time it'll be just the two of us. And maybe on that long car ride (or train ride I don't care) we can finally work on fixing our friendship once and for all. Put all the bad behind us. I can move on, I know I can. It'll be easier if I know he'll always be in my life no matter what happens. It won't be the life that I always dreamed about, but as long as he's in it in some way, I'll be ok.

My hopes are sky high right now, and I'm just hoping I can deal with my heart if it doesn't go quite the way I see it. But either way, so long as this show doesn't sell out in the next week, I'm going no matter what. I'm going with Nadia, and I'm hopefully going to finally meet Frank after all these years. And I'll see Mike Ness. And I'll probably cry again, cause they are my whole heart torn out and placed in front of me.

Oh my, oh me oh my. Making believe....

And it's raining right now, and I can't help but think of that afternoon....

number (nine) with a bullet

2010-06-29T01:07:00.000-04:00

so, it's after midnight and therefore, my birthday.
i have a very weird relationship with my birthday. i remember absolutely dying for the day to come when i was younger. one year i even refused to get out of bed on the day before because i simply couldn't handle the anticipation. and my grandparents bribing me out of bed with this teddy bear sized troll doll. totally worked.

the older i get though, it's not anticipation i feel but this intense sadness. i feel as though something is missing, like someone i loved has died, and the rug has been pulled out from under me. and i spend the whole day on the verge of tears. it's only 49 minutes in as i write this line, but the sadness has been building and is reaching full force. i'm already shedding tears like some strange ritual. hey! it's your birthday! commence crying and feeling like it's never going to be as good as it was!

i know that this year part of the sadness has to do with not having my family around. this is the first birthday i've had without my mom in the same city, and thats hard.

another part of it is not being...i dunno, good enough? noticed enough? for lots of people to really care and want to actually take the time out to celebrate. i'm ever so envious of people who hold birthday things and have endless streams of friends coming but at least for a minute, cause they were special enough to make sure they saw them on that occasion. i dunno. it's fucked up.

and the last part is....well there's one person who has never remembered my birthday, i think in all 9 and half years of knowing each other i can't remember a single time he's wished me a happy birthday. and of course, i have never missed a single one of his. no matter how much time apart, even if we hadn't talked in months, seen each other in a year....there would be an email or a call or both.

i think maybe if this is forgotten birthday number 9, then i need to take it as a sign. i need to build that sign into meaning way more than it actually might, i need to hold onto that and use it as motivation.

25 years.
25 years of awesome, and of insanity, and of laughter, and the most amazing people and unforgettable experiences. and 25 years of sadness and broken hearts and battling depression and some heavy, heavy emotional shit.

i want to take those 25 years, cherish the good, and learn from the bad. i don't want to spend the next 25 feeling the way i have these last years. i swear i won't make it.

search yourself

2010-06-26T04:18:00.000-04:00

hold it in.
hold it in until you feel it pressing against the stitches, seeping through the cracks. dripping onto everything, leaving stains you can't hide and marks you can't cover. run out of excuses for all the blood and bruises. run out of places to hide the pills from yourself in the middle of the night. run out of inches of flesh where scars aren't as questionable (ifelldownthestairsakidbitmeatworkigotscratchedridingabikefreakincidentopeningletterstheneighborsdogdidit). run out of alcohol. run out of words, of ink, of spaces to write. run out of reasons you are carrying on each day. stop seeing what you used to see. stop believing in hope. stop believing altogether. understand that its never going to be the way it was. know that hopes are foolish, dreams are weakness set to pictures and thoughts. know that you could have had it all, but you weren't enough (pretty enough, thin enough, drunk enough, tough enough, troubled enough, easy enough) and that's how you lost out. lost it. lost your shine. lost your purpose. lost everything.

you weren't there when i was. will you be there when i'm gone?

Cause sooner or later in life, the things you love, you lose

2010-06-25T15:27:00.000-04:00

I "celebrated" St. Jean for the first time really ever yesterday. Ninja and I went out to the west for a BBQ at P's. All in all a good time despite seeing someone I was sure I was safe from seeing. But even that went way better than expected... yay :)

We ditched P's to try and catch the fireworks down in PC village but we missed them :( Instead met up with E and P&D and MM and wound up going to Clyde's to meet up with other L and Gusto and JC and S. Bonics was there too so we got some hang time in and then it was back to the city.

I really didn't want to go home, I was in one of those party all night kind of moods...it's weird. Lately if I'm home, I don't want to leave my bed. But if I'm out, I never want to go home. Avoiding reality I guess.

my youth is slippin, my youth is slippin away...

2010-06-25T02:47:00.002-04:00

the entire bottle is ready and waiting...
who is going to take you seriously?
who is going to cover your hand with theirs and make you put it down?
empty it out and flush it? put you under your covers, bring them up and over your head and say all the nice things that people do when you've gone for good?
stay with you until morning, until light creeps into the room and you realize it's another day and you've made it past this annual mark, this commemoration of the passing of time?

and what about when you realize that no one is there? you can pull it off, there's no one to stop you this time. there's a good twenty four hours before anyone is going to come calling...
you can be gone. you can be done. it can finally stop. the peace you've been trying to find is right there, in that bottle, in those pills, in your reach.

74 left...

Strange things happen in the midnight hour

2010-06-20T14:56:00.000-04:00

Ahh summer 2010, you've barely begun and yet already you are full of memories.

Work ended Wednesday on a relatively quiet note, with lots of hugs and such from the kids.
Later that evening I got the call from E saying she didn't get accepted for my apartment and did I want to get drunk? Silly question my friend. Later in the evening, several bottles of wine and king cans into the night our little misery party was invaded by a certain member of a certain local hellbilly band, who brought with him a few more beers and some medicine and I can't recall the rest of how that story goes. I slept for 24+ hours after that, woke up for about 3 hours to assemble my mind, go to the gym and then fall back into the abyss of my bed.

I came to sometime on Friday and headed to Hurley's for our last staff gathering of the year. Food was eaten, drinks were had and we even made a "friend" with a very strange character who joined us at Terry's request...always picking up the strays that one.

The best night so far has to be last night. Other M, or "Cuz" as M and C refer to him, turns out to be very close friends with the drummer for Alexisonfire so the next thing you know we are driving to Montebello for some rock fest.

M and C couldn't have cared less about the situation but as it happens I am rather in love with Alexisonfire. I don't care much for their older stuff but the last two albums have come to mean a lot to me and get a ton of play at my place. The whole experience was rather surreal.

Anti-Flag was also playing and so whilst we hung around the hotel members of both bands were milling around doing their pre-show things. At one point M and I were sitting out front on the steps when Justin Sane trotted by with a case of beer. 10 years ago I would have fallen all over myself and probably cried a little. "Die for the Government" was one of the first punk albums I ever bought and their words fueled my little angry-at-the-world and stuck-in-a-small-stupid-town fire that raged at 15 years old. Even then I'm sure they were still considered punk-lite but this was before the internet was full of ways to discover music and so they were a pretty big deal to me. Had someone told 15 year old me that I would be where I was last night, 15 year old me would have laughed in your face, spit on the ground in front of you and told you that was impossible since I probably wouldn't make it to 16 cause "life sux" and "if I don't get out of this town fast I'm going to kill myself". Oh, youth.

We went backstage for AOF's set, and stood around while they gathered up the drum kit of A-F and shuffled it over to their stage. It was at this point Dallas Green made full eye contact with me and offered for us to move around to the other side of the stage to watch the show. It was like a dream sequence. I didn't experience any omg omg omg moments while we were around anyone (blame it on being spoiled, many of my friends make amazing music that means the world to me so for the most part I've gotten over the whole star struck thing). It was just very odd that this man who I listen to all the time and don't actually know, but see everywhere in the media is being so casual and cracking jokes with us about being locked into the stage area. And I know this man means the world to some people, the way I feel about Mike Ness and all my idols. And I felt a little bit sad that I couldn't stir up those omg feelings the way I used to be able to whenever I was around anyone remotely important to me.

And yet I was feeling so very grateful because for me moments like this is all part of "living the dream". For some people it's money and houses and cars and excess and living comfortably. For me it's being as close as I possibly can to music and the people who make it. And experiencing that treatment I used to daydream about constantly as a teen meant so very much to me.

up against the wall, why does love always have to hurt?

2010-03-05T15:57:00.002-05:00

i am absolutely debilitated with fear right now.
social skills, oh social skills, and confidence....where have ye gone? you hide in the bottom of the bottle, but that can't be the only way.

trying to mentally prepare for seeing someone you haven't seen in a very long time is difficult. it's been three months and somehow i don't think the passage of time has really done much to dull the pain of it all.

i used to think we could get through absolutely anything but i dunno...we can't seem to get past this part of things. i can't get past it. or maybe i can....maybe seeing him is going to be a lot easier than i think.

the difference

2010-02-22T21:30:00.002-05:00

it used to be that i could see people being together and being happy and it didn't really effect me. no matter what was going on i never felt any resentment, and most of the time i wished them well.

i would hear other people being bitter about seeing happy couples and i didn't understand it. and i counted myself lucky for being a person that no matter what happened, i didn't have any ill will towards people for getting to that place where i wanted to be.

but something happens to you when you lose the person who you think is the one. your heart breaks in ways that you never really thought possible. it heals, and then it breaks again, splits open in all those same places at the mention of them. you wind up walking around wounded, literally feeling a soreness in your heart. it becomes this underlying thing that never leaves you, and colors everything in your life despite all your attempts to choke it down.

you look at people who are happy together, and though part of you is happy for them, the rest of you hurts and you wonder if you'll ever get there. will this ache ever subside? i understand, now, the difference between the people who can be happy and the people who can't help but silently resent. i am standing on the other side of that line, heart just barely holding together with makeshift sutures, admiring those who haven't gone through this kind of hurt.

gold

2010-02-14T21:38:00.002-05:00

where were you when Canada won their first gold medal on home turf?

i was sitting on the edge of my bed, curled into a ball of nerves, biting my nails and praying. i had been sick all weekend, but in the moment Alexandre Bilodeau crossed the finish line i only felt good. i yelped, and i had chills, and yes, i cried. i know right?

what a story and what a moment for Canada. typically the only sport i care about is hockey, our sport. but i could get into moguls, it's actually exciting to watch.

so thanks Alexandre, un tres gros merci pour ton travail. you did something really special for this country, and i know i'll never forget it :)

2010-02-12T20:03:00.001-05:00

i'm fine. really.

i'm missing a band that's important to me.

but i'm fine.

ish.

2010-02-08T20:49:00.004-05:00

"I wish I could give you some sort of sage advice. But you want my honest opinion? Fuck it. Don't even bother trying, you've both been burned before and you're inevitably going to burn each other and then move on again. You should skip ahead and start drinking to soothe the broken heart you're getting either way."

saturday mornings, westmount edition

2010-02-06T09:30:00.003-05:00

sitting in K's living room, drinking english breakfast tea, listening to her make pancakes in the kitchen, it's barely sunny yet, only 9:30 in the morning and its lightly snowing, like so fine you almost can't see it. it's a pretty fucking perfect saturday morning.

monday evening kgb and i argued for 2.5, really almost 3, hours. we have come to a sort of truce but that's about it. i'm not ready to see him or speak to him.

during the course of our conversation i learned about a situation with another person, CF, that i thought was becoming a friend but it turns out maybe not so much. apparently there is no point in trying to watch out for someone because they are only going to twist the situation in their minds. they are going to twist it so that everyone thinks you are using them to keep tabs on kgb... because you couldn't possibly actually be worried about them getting home safely. no. no one worries anymore, not without an ulterior motive.

i allowed myself to be angry, physically shaking and swearing up a storm, for one evening. now i just feel hurt. and after a very good conversation on wednesday night with ninja and E, i remember all the reasons i stopped talking to kgb, and why i don't often bother to make new friends. it's very hard to find people who are sincere in this day and age.

so, dear everyone: fuck your insincerity, grow some courage and be a little grounded and legitimate in your interactions. i dare you.

timebomb

2010-01-31T14:10:00.003-05:00

dear kgb,
i was doing alright. sure, other things in my life were still completely fucked up, but i was heading in the right direction. i could actually go a week without crying. i was smiling and laughing and beginning to daydream about my future again.

i got home on friday night to find an email from you. as i read it my heart beat so hard i thought it was going stop altogether. i thought i might have a brain aneurysm. i couldn't breathe. and then the tears started, and all the anger came rushing back.

i don't even know how to respond. you know how to tread a line to thin between innocence and outright stupidity. you don't dish out blame, but you take no responsibility.

the short answer? yes. i'm mad at you.

if you are looking to make ammends because it looks bad to have someone like me, someone who had your back no matter what, stood by you through everything (and everyone knew it) and let you away with murder, be so completely hurt and disgusted by you, then fuck off. i don't care about your reputation. if you just want to save face and smooth things over, i want nothing to do with it.

but if you've started to realize all you've lost by becoming a raging self absorbed asshole....if you are finally becoming your old, good self again, then maybe, just maybe we can talk again. if 9 years of friendship means something to you after all...if if if, i have so many if's going on in my head right now i can't even think enough to straighten them out and write them down. but you will not hear from me just yet...

one, because i don't know what to say. i don't know which part of you was compelled to write that email. was it the saving face asshole? or was it the best friend who has saved me from myself more than once. the guy who stood there in the pouring rain with me that night.

two, because i am torn between two feelings. kissing you, and killing you. one thing you have taught me is that love and hate are very much the same. after all you have done to me, i am ashamed that i still feel this way.

i have a lot to figure out.

everything ends

2010-01-25T19:06:00.003-05:00

i am forcing myself to become one of those people who come home and change directly into something comfortable. hopefully this will put me in a more comfy-coze head-space, rather than the high strung crazy bitch head-space i've been in.

everything ends. lots of things and people have come and gone in my short life thus far. the latest thing is (or rather will be) alcohol. it's gotten to the point where i can't have just one drink, i get started and i need 8. i need to blackout drunk. and this past weekend was the last straw. i'm tired of waking up and not remembering a damn thing, only to find out about whatever ridiculous/horrible things i was up to.

it stops now.

i'm going to get a lot of flack from people. yeah, sad. but those are the kind of people i have in my life. not all of them, but quite a few aren't going to understand. and they're going to get bored of my presence because i won't be insane crazy drunko that is funny to watch/laugh at. and then once again i'll be able to seperate the true from the not.

my goal is to go a year without the bottle, and then reevaluate. it took me three or four months to develop this bad habit, and i'd like see if i can reverse it. it would be amazing to be able to enjoy a glass of wine again, in a social situation, without feeling the need to down the entire bottle and then chase it with whatever else i can manage to get my hands on.

i'm pretty confident i can pull this off. as far as i'm concerned, removing KGB from my life (temp or permanently, that's to be seen) was the hardest thing i've had to do in the last decade or so. this should be easy by comparison.

m and c came over on sunday to dump out all the reserves. m has apparently been waiting to do this for awhile. i'm glad someone got some enjoyment out of my pathetic state.

So this is the new year...

2010-01-05T21:50:00.003-05:00

This year, perhaps foolishly, I am focusing on change. Little by little, I need to make some changes in my life or I will not live to see 26, this is fact.

2009 was a a hell of a year, and I intend on doing some round up closure post. It was definitely a year that needs closure, a shut door, a final sentence. It was rough. My depression reared it's ugly head all year long. I had my heart severely broken by one of the most important people in my life, and the year ended with me cutting him out of my life. Maybe not forever, but for the new few months. I spent September, October, November, and the majority of December as a functional alcoholic (aside from the 6.5-8.5 hours a day I was at work, of course).

I'm focusing on itsy bitsy changes each day. If it's not easy, I won't do it. I've spent years laughing at all who choose to make new year's resolutions, but maybe they have the right idea. At least they try, right? So, this year, 2010, I am trying. One small thing each day that's productive. Anything from cleaning to cooking to crafting to shopping smart to spending great time with friends to going the extra baby step at work. Just a little something so that my day isn't a total depressing waste.

And maybe, juuuuuuuust maybe, I can sleep at night again, all night. I can wake up and not immediately, involuntarily, burst into tears. Maybe I'll start to see a future again even if it means he's not going to be in it. Maybe by my 25th birthday, in June, I'll be able to have a good time socially without being blackout drunk.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll be okay.

Today's accomplishment(s): Dishes washed. TONS of recycling brought down to the bins.

I'm also unofficially beginning a new 365...if I make it to 20 days then it becomes official. Official that I've lost my mind, that is.

2009-12-08T01:15:00.002-05:00

so that's it huh?
gotta admit, this was an unexpected turn of events....

in other news....

MUNICIPAL WASTE FUCKED ME UP

whole set= amazing, played a ton of my favorites. couldn't ask for more.

where are the fucking muffin pans?

2009-12-02T21:06:00.003-05:00

Sooo my dreams are weird and ultimately bloggable.

There is a theme developing about eggs and KGB.

Zee dream:
KGB drags me on a bus to go up north with a ton of people I don't recognize. We get to some school, and we get off and he starts walking around and pointing at things saying stuff like "this is where it all started" and he was wearing what he wore the night we first met...and in the dream I felt like the school was supposed to be JRHS, yet I knew the building was all wrong.

And then we're up north, at a cottage, presumably KGB's, and he's eating eggs right out of a giant frying pan. Sunny side up, messy. And he wants me to make him more eggs, more eggs! And I'm getting pissed off because I'm searching through all the cupboards and throwing pans around screaming "Where are the fucking muffin tins?! I NEED TO MAKE MUFFINS FOR NADIA!!!" and then I open the freezer and all these little premade muffin forms come tumbling out and I'm thinking oh thank God, Nadia's muffins...

and then I woke up and QUESTIONED MY SANITY.

wine for the whiner

2009-11-29T23:23:00.005-05:00

Successful afternoon at Ireland's despite being cookie-less.

After this morning's debacle I nearly became a shut-in again, but instead decided to soldier on and get out of the house and out of this Rut (many of us are in the Rut these days, therefore deserving a capitalization, as fall 09 will be remember as The Time of the Rut).

"Good Hair" was the subject of the afternoon, excellent doc, the best of all we've watched this year. Gwyn brought over her old hot comb and clamp thing from the "old days", pre-dreadlocks. Led to many serious discussions on hair and image and race and then wound up on the old language debate (what? i know...) I managed to ingest roughly a whole bottle of red wine to myself during this time...tomorrow morning is certainly going to hurt.

I am off to curl up and dream all the dreams I shouldn't. It's the only way I can ever fall asleep these days. Indulgence, indulgence.

domestic fail

2009-11-29T12:25:00.004-05:00

I woke and tried to make sugar cookies to bring to doc afternoon at Ireland's.
Somehow, I managed to fail at this, couldn't get the dough to stick.

I'm supposed to cook and bring food to KGB's for his party. I am already freaking out over my ability to do so. Lately all my food endeavors are mega-fails.

Oi oi oi.

guns without bullets

2009-11-14T10:43:00.005-05:00

I'm angry, and maybe a little crazy. I don't care anymore. I'm too tired to be nice.

Seeing her there, up front and having fun, with my friend where I should have been, made me sick. Fucking sick to my stomach. How she can dance around like a sonofabitch and be all over everyone I don't understand. Somewhere there's a boy with a very broken heart picking up the pieces of the last few years of his life that she left smashed on the floor. And here she is. Heartless and drunk and slutty.

I understand I can't stop her from attending these shows, but fuck. I don't fucking want her there. It's ruining one of the only safe havens I have left. A band that brings me joy, that can make me smile the whole time. No long sad history, no drama. Thanks for bringing the drama you fucking slut.

I'm full of hate and this weekend it's directed at you, you fucking two bit whore.

the price i pay for loving you the way that i do

2009-11-09T00:05:00.004-05:00

the only thing keeping my feet on the ground is the heaviness of my heart.
personal gravity born from an internal ache.
the weight, oh the weight.

past

2009-10-23T23:14:00.003-04:00

I would kill for it to be August 4th again, around midnight. To be curled up on a couch in Vermont, coming down off the show, listening to the pouring rain and the thunder and the conversation that was happening beside me.

When everything was alright.

some time to myself

2009-10-23T18:59:00.004-04:00

Yesterday morning I woke up and cried. Not entirely shocking, it happens all the time these days. And then I lost it a bit at work first thing with my student. I had to get a real grip on myself. The rest of the day was ok, a pleasant surprise actually. 3 of the grads from last year came to visit on their high school PED day and it really made my day. I miss those girls so much. They were incredible little souls to have around and brought more into my life and that of my student's than they may ever realize. I hope they do great things in their lives, cause they have that kind of power to touch people.

And then in the afternoon I caved. In theory I caved on Saturday afternoon, at 17 days. I caved in a one liner email on facebook. But there was no reply. So yesterday, day 23, I caved for real via text message. And it worked. He was giving me the same old jerk-ish statements about being busy. So I finally said "Things have been shit and I miss you." And he said "What's wrong?" And I never answered him cause honestly, I didn't know how to put it down in less than 200 characters. How to explain that I was falling apart and I knew it wasn't going to get any better unless he was back in my life. That I don't need to talk to him about whats wrong, partially because some of it has to do with him and it would scare him, and partially because the problem is with me and there's nothing he can do. I just need him there. To be on the other end of the line and to tell me all his ridiculous stories. I just need him to be there. I never answered him, and he never wrote again. I don't know what that says. I know there's a weirdness that we both tried to avoid, and maybe that's why. He's scared to get too involved with what's going on with me. I can respect that. I just hope that he cares. That's all I can ask for and hope for at this point.

It's Friday night and I'm home and happy about it. It's the first Friday in forever that I haven't gone straight to the bar with the crew after work and drank myself into stupidity. My liver needs a night off. I went grocery shopping after work with the teacher I work with and spent a load of money and now I'm just here being quiet. Reading blogs and things and trying to plan out the rest of my weekend. I'm missing a pretty good party tonight, the 5th annual Nuthouse Halloween party. It's just not worth it to me to go and dress up and then deal with the few people that I dislike who are supposed to attend. My only regret for not going is missing out on seeing Kylah, who is lovely and who I never get to see. I just need some me time. I've been out or busy all week. Monday I took a sick day (thanks migraine) but still went to my after work job. Tuesday I had the Irish girls and the famous Nicholas Burke over for hockey. Wednesday I went to Old Orchard with people from another class. Last night Ninja came over for hockey and hair bow photo taking. I am just plain tired.

Tomorrow morning I am supposed to go to a friend's studio space and take new press pictures for her. I'm also supposed to go across the border for some shopping with friends, not sure if that's happening or not. I'm just too tired to think right now.

I haven't cried today, but today is not over and I know that it can come on anytime. I haven't had a drink yet either, and I'll try to make it through tonight without one. I know things aren't really as bad as they feel.

and I loved you, oh god kid how I loved you.

2009-10-15T00:36:00.002-04:00

I compose goodbyes in my head without even thinking about it. Just write the letters in my mind.

That scares me.

rats in the hallway

2009-10-12T20:00:00.006-04:00

I woke up and cried. I woke up with this incredible paranoia that he was dead, a long weekend tragedy, a victim of the roads. At first I tried to reason with myself. This happens all the time. Irrational fear grips me and then I find out everything is okay. But I couldn't shake it, kept on thinking "What if this time it's real?" and I'd be saddled with guilt for the rest of my life because I'd left him out of my well wishes on purpose. A never-ending karmic slap in the face for my manipulation.

I fell back asleep and dreamed. It was so vivid. In the dream I took the time to do everything I didn't that night. To really observe and feel and memorize. I drank everything in, and woke up too soon. The emptiness that followed the dream was unbearable, and so I cried again...

Most people spend their whole lives trying to figure out who they are. I know who I am, and have for a long time. You would think that this would give me some sort of peace, reassurance. Instead I spend my life trying to figure out why. Why am I the way I am? Why do I think the way I do, about the horrible things that I do? Why can I think of nothing but emptiness and loneliness and how painfully beautiful everything is when I'm sober in a room full of people?

I have spent most nights since that one, like that one, drunk. A month of blurred nights and hangovers. Drinking and drinking until all I can do is fall over and laugh. And trying to do it without people noticing is difficult. I don't need negative attention. I just want to be able to smile and laugh like everyone else and not have all these other thoughts flooding my mind. I have such good friends, I am so very lucky. It kills me that it's not enough. I thought that if he noticed and stopped to care that it would solve everything. Instead it added to my bitterness. "You're worse than I am," he said. Feeling how true that was all I could say was "I'm fine."

***

I saw The Captain on the weekend. I couldn't see straight or form coherent sentences, but I noticed him immediately upon arrival. I've never spoken a word to him and I like it better this way. Admiring him from a distance, it doesn't hurt this way. His best friend is a work of art. It's so obvious how I would be seen in comparison.

B.D.F.

2009-08-31T14:20:00.004-04:00

I cut my spaghetti. I do, I always have, it's just one of those things that I do that people find really fucking weird.

"That's so French."

Not in a complimentary you're so Parisian way. In a you're like some backwoods backwards-ass redneck Quebecois Frenchie kind of way.

At 24 I can't help but note I am extremely odd.

I'm reading the archives of Dooce.com (I am in love with that woman, just when I thought no good could come of Tennessee she goes and wins me over) and eating spaghetti covered in homemade sauce (yesterday I went a little housewifey) that's been unceremoniously chopped to bits and then dusted with salt, and listening to Gwar at a volume that may or may not alienate the neighbors. If they heard the lyrics they'd definitely question my morals/sanity. I particularly enjoy blasting Fuckin An Animal.

I enjoy that song way too much. KGB had it as his voicemail message for something short of forever and I used to call him just to hear it and laugh, and then leave messages of just me laughing on his machine. Why? Cause if I'm off my rocker someone's going down with me.

BTW, KGB's ass is on facebook. Like his ass, actually there on facebook. He's mooning a camera in broad daylight. His ass is hairy, not as hairy as his chest so that's good. I have a tendency to tease him about being a hairy beast. I know it's mean but I do it anyway. It's taking all my restraint today not to text him some hairy ass comment.

I'm a good friend. I swear.

I've been writing a lot lately, added some goods to a "short piece of creative fiction" I've had kicking around for a year. And then there are the letters. I have a little black book, a paper journal if you will, where I write down the things I can't talk about with anyone. And it's basically become a place where I write letters to someone. This person will never read those letters, maybe when I'm dead I'll put it in my will to pass on the letters. Cause I like to fuck with people from the great beyond.

Once again, I'm a solid budly, I swear.

As I've been spending my last week or so of summer bliss doing sweet-fuck-all, I've organized a baking/crafternoon for tomorrow. I've invited Ninja, Kel and Carolyn over for some sweet girly times in my little apartment. I'm excited. It also gives me some motivation to finish cleaning up the joint. I've had boxes and bags stacked in the corner since June, all my shit from work that needs to be reorganized and shelved and picked over for the coming school year.

Now to clean and organize to a wonderful soundtrack of Gwar and UK Subs.
SEACREST OUT.

bleurgh

2009-08-16T13:12:00.003-04:00

It's gotta be a bad sign when you wake up with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Everyday.

And Facebook is just a reminder that everyone else you know has social skills and self esteem and a life.

Being re-diagnosed with clinical depression was not on my to-do list for this year.

Remembering James

2009-06-06T14:50:00.004-04:00

June 6th.

It's been 4 years since James was killed. I didn't think the anniversary would hit me this much but it has. It's strange.

As always I think about how I wasn't close with James, but how we moved him that one time, and how it was nice to know that he could see we weren't the bad people everyone thought we were. And how he had tears in his eyes.

I think about how the events of June 6th stopped time in Hudson. How it hit each and every one of us, close to him or not, hit us like a brick wall, and brought us together.

The wake, there was so much crying and shaking and questions that went unanswered. I stood there with my friends in my arms trying not to cry but to be strong for them, those who had been a bigger part of his life. And how for months after I was nervous to be alone in the ballroom with the lights out at work, thinking of exactly where his coffin had stood and reliving that day.

And the funeral, with the streets filled with people crying and holding each other. The town was filled. The massive Canada flag that hung over Main, the endless procession of firefighters from all over. Reconnecting with people I hadn't seen since high school, so much hugging and crying and just everything. I'd never seen anything like it.

I'm still moved to this day by the events of June 6th. Thinking of you, James, and all those who loved you...

Lame-ass Shit

2009-05-24T10:43:00.003-04:00

I've been having an excess of stupid weird dreams lately, last night being no different.

So last night in dreamland I was with 4 friends who I happened to have been with in real life/text message life last night. One friend brought us back to his house because there was a storm, but his house was my old house. Anyway he gave us each a couch or a chair in the living room and then gave us each blankets and then gave us each a joint. He proceeded to go around lighting everyone up, then me, then himself. He sat down cross legged at the coffee table, put his head on his arms and proceeded to smoke. The whole time in my dream I was looking around at the scene very confused, there were my buddies all curled up under blankets, smoking joints. And then there he was, head on his arms in front of me smoking a joint, the strange thing being that in reality land he doesn't smoke or do anything aside from drink himself to death. And I called him out on it in my dream, and he was just like "go with it..."

Fucking weird town.

Reality land last night was fucking weird town as well. We went out with friends who we haven't really seen in awhile and it was just very awkward. Apparently my not liking one person has caused a lot of people to write me out of their lives, and it makes hanging out with the people who those people are close to almost impossible. I've been blacklisted, bitches. It's funny, and sad. Sad that said people aren't mature enough to just deal with the fact that I'm not going to love everyone and I'm not going to suck up to people who are piles of useless drama.

Dear dramatic bitches, you are shortening my life with your stupidity. Grow up a little, maybe your life won't suck as bad and you won't spend all your time running off at the mouth so you look like you have a personality you're ok with it. In the meantime, keep out ma space.

I'm thinking about taking up smoking again. I like to ruin any sort of progress I make in my life by running 13 steps backwards. Just a thought.

Game 7 Madness

2009-05-14T19:43:00.004-04:00

We didn't get a game 7.
We didn't even get a game 5...so I'm really enjoying all these lengthy series. I love watching Detroit, Boston and Chicago do their thang. I've even found myself rooting for Anaheim at times.

It's still early on this night of game 7's, so before any more fates are decided here is how I'd like shit to go down:
Detroit beats Anaheim and goes on to play Chicago. I get to wear the Detroit shirt I have coming to me in the mail from my parents. However, Chicago moves to the finals.

Boston beats Carolina and goes on to play Bitchburg. Boston moves to the finals.

Chicago hands Boston their own asses on the silver tray The Cup is brought it on.

(I don't think there is a silver tray involved, but you get what I'm saying here)

Boston gets their hopes up, I get to see Savard and Thornton for another week or so, then they go back to the tea party in tears.

Young, fun Chicago gets the win. An orgnaization is completely revilatized. Everyone goes home happy....including several friends of mine who are legit (read-non bandwagon) Hawks fans.

a crying shame

2009-05-11T22:04:00.004-04:00

Self loathing.

I do a lot of it, you could say I'm really good at it. It crept up on me over the years and became an intrinsic part of my personality. It's something I'm trying to change about myself, I know it's not getting me anywhere.

I'm very careful around the kids to always boost their confidence when I can. I know how much it can mean when an adult takes that time. And for some odd reason I'm deemed to be one of the 'cool' adults at EBS that the kids like and relate to.

Today I was sitting in the park overseeing "lunch club", the lunchtime social club I run to integrate my autistic student and teach just how freakin awesome it is to have friends. After running a short yoga program with the group, I was camped out at a picnic table overseeing the playground activities. I had company in the form of one of my golden kids, a very tiny Sri Lankan girl whom I've gotten to know quite well over the last two years.

We were discussing grad plans and dresses and all that and she asked me about a million questions about my own grad experiences and about boyfriends and all kinds of jazz. It was quite a talk. My boy was running around with my camera taking pictures of anything and everything and every time he tried to take a picture of her she hid her face under her hood. I was puzzled by this so I asked her about it.

"I'm ugly" she said, matter-of-factly.

Holy hannah did that break my heart.

For starters, I one hundred percent can commiserate with this girl on the whole I hate how I look thing. Knowing how that feels and knowing she feels that way was almost enough to do me in.

But what really did me in is the fact that that statement couldn't be farther from the truth.

This girl, this incredibly tiny, delicate 11 year old girl is every kind of beautiful there is.

She is very pretty, striking skin color and eyes that look right into your soul, thin framed and graceful. She is friendly and smart, a leader in her school and well liked by most if not all. She is a-fucking-mazing with my student, who now gives her high fives and buddy hugs while he still reacts by screaming "leave me alone!" to most other kids. She can also suck my student into doing WORK, actual work like science experiments that involve precision and team work. She is a force to be reckoned with on ALL playing fields I've watched her on. I've seen her goal-tend her face off, kick a soccer ball as hard as the boys, bat a volleyball up and over a net she may never be tall enough to touch the top of, and basically kick ass at any sport thrown at her. She's school smart as well, and pretty well every time she's come to me for help in math, she's talked herself into finding the answer before I can even really help her. She's insightful, kind and caring. She's truly beautiful on the inside and out in the best sense of the word. I can't wait to see what she does with her life. Several times in the past year I've thought to myself "what am I going to do without her next year?"

My greatest wish for her is that she realizes (and before it's too late, before she becomes hardened and bitter like me) just how wonderful she is. And that once she does, may she never stop sharing it with the world. She's going to change lives, that one is. She's already impacted mine.

a very bad headspace

2009-05-02T14:37:00.004-04:00

i really really really wish i knew what was up with me lately.
i haven't felt this fucked up since spring 05.
maybe i have a seasonal thing with spring.
i'm just so fucking down today over nothing and it's a stupid waste of time.
maybe it's all the alcohol i've ingested lately? it's a depressant...maybe it's depressing me.
i don't know fuck but it's dumb as shit and i'd rather be happy. i gotta figure out how to do that before this weird ass mood gets any worse.

sometimes when you're on

2009-04-30T22:40:00.005-04:00

roughly once a day i realize that the things i want most in life aren't going to happen for me. i have clear visions of a future that will never happen. the visions are so clear its like i've already lived it and this burning hole in my heart is grief, not sobriety.

then i have thoughts about making sure i say it before i die. about reaching out in those final moments and telling whoever is there to pass on the message. to make sure my words are heard. i feel like they'll have weight in my absence. until then i don't think depth of it, the very size and shape and intensity and honesty of it will be understood.

i had a heavy conversation with Ro the other day and at the end she put her hand on my shoulder and said "i thought what i had to deal with was hard, but jesus" which made me worry about my sanity because IMHO what she had to go through was one thousand times more difficult and also important (given how backwards this world remains in the year 2009) whereas what i'm dealing with is just yet another case of sad delusion.

my heart is so full these days.

ok whatever

2009-04-24T21:26:00.003-04:00

sometimes i feel very let down.

i can appreciate that other people don't care about things as much as i do. but i refuse to be less intense so you can be more comfortable. will you care more so i'll feel better?

tonight i drank too much, cut the inside of my mouth on goodness knows what, chain smoked, and chose a new design for this blog (as i'm too lazy to design a new one myself right now).

i'm going to wake up coughing, confused and angry about it.

my arms are one quarter shade darker than they were this morning, thank you late afternoon terrace sun.

i taped the canada vs belarus game while i was at work. i spent all day avoiding tvs and internet so i could watch it and be surprised. my mom called "so canada won eh".

i've begun to understand the viral prevalence of "fml". we all have our own fml moments several times a day.

i would very much like to put my fist through glass.

And so it ends...

2009-04-23T00:11:00.002-04:00

I have never been a Price fan.

That being said, there were times where I hated the guy, didn't understand him, felt sorry for him, ignored his presence, etc. I went through the gamut of emotions with the guy.

But not once did I boo him. The bottom line is the guy has a ton of potential but NOW IS NOT HIS TIME. He's 21. He's not Roy. Roy is Roy. You'll hear this from the mouths of everyone who isn't lynching the guy. It sounds like an excuse, but I really don't feel that it is. Montreal has to be the toughest city to play for. We scrutinize to no end. I'm guilty of spending way too much time dissecting plays. Some distasteful fans are vocal in their distaste. As my co-blogger will point out Price lacks a veteran presence to learn from. Price had many setbacks with his health this season, and needed more time to get back on his game that we could afford. The fucking Centennial curse. So many things were working against the guy.

I don't hate Carey Price. I just don't think he should be our man right now. Send him to the farm, let him take his experiences here and couple them with more solid practice and ice time out of the spotlight and then check on him in a couple years.

On the flipside, I have always been a Halak fan.

From the first time I saw him between the pipes I just liked the guy. It wasn't something I could explain given my extremely limited knowledge of hockey. Later on I learned it was his style that attracted me most. I also sense a confidence in him, he's not so easily shaken.

post-punk paradise

2009-04-05T20:44:00.004-04:00

I do these things, on Sundays. New Music Sundays.

Basically, it's me, right, with my computer. Hunting down new music on the internet...on a Sunday.

New Music Sundays.

Anyway, I stumble across so many bands I like and then forget about them because I get stuck on one band.

Like I got stuck on Deerhunter and almost forgot about No Age.

This week I'm wrapped up in:

Wavves
Little Girls
The Walkmen

I think I might be the last person on the planet to finally listen to The Walkmen. I don't know what took me so long. I think I looked at the name and for some reason decided I just wouldn't be into it. I was wrong.

The song I Lost You is lover-ly.

Little Girls are from Toronto and they are the kind of mindless noise rock catchy stuff I love lately. Mindless is not an insult, it means I can straight up enjoy it without tying it to some big emtional thing like I do everything else.

Wavves are from California, and their logo sums up my daydream kind of life. It's got pizza and booze and pot and ice cream and palm trees and longboards (not for me, but for cute blonde shaggy haired blue eyed California heartbreakers). Yep.

So I think I'm going to use this blog to keep track of my New Music Sundays discoveries.

***

Hockey tomorrow night, we are playing Ottawa and I have honestly no ideas as to how that will go. We're toting some injuries from the Toronto Massacre thanks to that ass-monkey Grabovski.

Guys! Hey Guys! WINS!

2009-04-02T23:43:00.003-04:00

It's April 2nd and I'm pretty happy about some shit:

1)i was the Bell Centre Tuesday when we beat the Blackhawks. WHAT A GAME!
2)we beat the islanders tonight (who i watched put up a good fight against the Caps last night...and was therefore scared for tonight).
3) KOMI SCORED A GOAL! Despite his crap play this season he is and always will be "my man". And I swore I'd never love a Polak (quickly hides her Polish half). anyway, he's not a goal scorer, and he scored, so it was a big deal, and his dad was there, and i hope he pinched his cheek and muttered in Polish at him (despite my complaints its kinda cute when my grandmother does it).
4) I'm going to the last game of the regular season, shit yeah bitches. Ninja is a ticket getting ninja. It will be my 10th game of the 08-09 pre and regular season.
5)ITS SPRING!!!! i was out and about with no coat on today. I walked the 3km to work this morning, bouncing along in the sunny 8am breeze, listening to the Bronx.

And now it's bedtime for me, Ninja and i had "Margarita Hockey Night" in my living room, i just spent a half hour scrubbing all the spills in my kitchen/living room and my heads all sore now. Damn you Jose Cuervo, damn you.

true patriot love

2009-02-24T19:38:00.005-05:00

Hockey is on.
What does this mean?

It means I'm curled up on my bed in a nest of blankets riveted to the TV.

It means I teared up when the little kids skated out with the flags and they started playing that Coldplay song.

It means I blushed and giggled at the mention of Komisarek and later Halak.

It means I'm holding my breathe, hoping we don't get creamed by the Canucks.

It means a lot of other things I can't put into words, about feeling connected to hockey lovers across the country, about having something to believe in, and about a feeling I get when the puck drops that I can't quite explain.

Hockey is on, and it means my system is on over drive.

in getting out of your own mind

2009-02-22T12:39:00.004-05:00

I think it's important that when missing someone one stops to think about how the person problem didn't really miss them at all.

on mistakes, making them and almost making them

2009-02-10T22:56:00.004-05:00

I've been preoccupied since the events of Friday (wouldn't you like to know?) and it's not the good kind of preoccupied. I feel occupied. Like, my heart is Poland and reason is Russia and desire is Germany and they are trying to invade as one and take over in a sensible manner and it just ain't happening.

I've made a few mistakes over the last year in particular. Luckily I've been blessed with someone who can handle those mistakes and bear with me while I figure shit out.

Unfortunately, I am once again allowed too many freedoms...or maybe I've just taken them with my intense stubbornness. But still...I seem to be determined to make this mistake no matter the consequences. And the consequences would be huge, and almost 100% bad...given....well given things that I know.

Stop stop stop. I just won't. Right? I can't.

It's so worth it that it's not worth it.

on the absence of parts of your heart

2009-01-15T19:26:00.003-05:00

I missing some someones.

I always seem to be missing someone or something or sometime. I am too nostalgic for my own good, heart or health. It takes a toll when one always has a burning in their chest. Cause i feel it in my heart, and not just my heart of hearts, but my muscle tissue and blood heart.

Right now I'm missing A. I stumbled across his band's page today and decided to pull out their CD and give it a listen. I haven't seen him in a bloody forever.

His voice, his low, mournful, heart-wrenchingly beautiful voice, brings back a flood of memories and of course that deep, slow churning kind of burn to my heart. And it brings other things back to my heart of hearts. On my worst of days, days of sheer preoccupation with insanity and the thought of losing it it would only take a word or a look. A understood my love of music and that fact that sometimes things could only be expressed by quoting a song. And I would quote said song and A would give me the look or the hug and things were suddenly...easy. Calmed.

My best memories are the ones of sitting alone, writing or drawing or tapping or humming and then there would be hands on my shoulders, lightly against my neck, over the top of my back. It would always be A, and I would always melt away. Trying to meet his eyes after that was both difficult and easy. Somehow I felt that if I looked at him in just the right way he would know exactly what was on my mind. And sometimes the way he treated me gave me the impression that he did, and wanted the same thing. Things were always too quietly comfortable and intimate with A. I was allowed too many freedoms.

I have a perfect memory of the day I finally saw A after a long period of time. He showed up in the most unexpected of places, coming down the hallway looking slightly lost. Then... "Lindsey!" and I only could reply with the biggest grin and the tightest hug that went on for light years (on whose part? one couldn't tell) and with tears I couldn't hold back and finally a mumbled "I thought you were gone forever". And he'd brushed away so softly the rogue tear that managed to escape all my efforts and said "But I'm right here."

It's so heavy I can't even keep writing. This is non conclusive. It just has to be this way.

on comfort, discomfort, and coming apart at the seems

2009-01-12T21:39:00.003-05:00

As it stands now, things are out of sorts.

Or rather, I'm out of sorts, with no idea how to sort myself out.

I'm afraid KGB's taken the brunt of my midnight outbursts of aggression and drama, and he's come through every time. He gets me a in a way that no one else quite does, given the years behind us and all the hell we've been through. To think I almost gave up on him, that's a lesson in itself of why I shouldn't listen to other people.

That was a "gee I'm so glad we're best friends despite the fact that I'm really good at making things awkward" rant.

Let's see, updates oh updates. I'm being a stubborn girl these days over matters not to be disclosed on the internets. Now it's a matter of persistence versus pride. And we all know how goddamn stubborn and prideful I am. Sometimes I fail at new friends.

Sometimes I win at drinking too much. I decided it was a good idea to get blackout drunk at the Danny Rebel & the KGB show...(not to be confused with KGB...bah nevermind). That was like an interesting social experiment if anything. Too bad I don't remember a whole lot. I was trying to drink my week away but I only successfully drank away my memories of what went on that night. Rock.

Hockey is still all consuming in my life. We got tickets to the All Star Jamboree, and the very thought of the mere possibility of meeting Mike Komisarek sends me into fits. Intense-ville. Fantasy city. Oh my.

I'm out of steam...end transmission.

on the edge of insanity

2008-11-27T21:21:00.003-05:00

And if you really do exist, if you are made of flesh and bone and blood and guts, will you let me get to you?

on being completely uncertain

2008-11-15T13:51:00.006-05:00

I will be at the Bell Centre tonight alongside Ninja for our rendezvous with the Flyers.
I am praying to the Forum ghosts to help us out tonight. Komi is out with inury(ies?) and TomK is still on suspension. Begin is dressing so maybe that'll perk things up. Even with the injury list that the Flyers are toting, I'm still scared.

Halak is getting the start tonight which I am pleased about. I'll make no speculations as to how tonight will go. All I ask for is an exciting, physical game, with good effort on our part, some solid defense. And I wanna see Laraque punch someone instead of follow them around like those ghosts in the Nintendo games. Erm, excuse me, but, uh, BOO, sorry, was that ok?

Sheesh.

Good news of the day, we have secured tickets for two December games, vs the Devils and the Capitals. Shit yeah motherfucker.

on why I haven't written

2008-11-13T00:29:00.003-05:00

reason one, too much drama rama and i dont want to let it sneak out onto this blog for all the world to see, so i've just avoided it...
and reason two, i'm too busy all star balloting to blog!
go now and vote for all of the Canadiens players, and in particular Mike Komisarek, cause it's common knowledge he's a good player (and i wanna do him).
http://ca.fanballoting.nhl.com/
i'm pretty sure the page takes forever to load because the whole island of Montreal is voting.

THE END.

(pictures and legit updates to come very soon, shut it c.elie)

in trying to remember last weekend before this one begins

2008-10-31T18:04:00.002-04:00

For myself more than anyone else:

Friday night:

Evening at Shawna's, I drank and acted a fool all night long until I woke up confused on her couch at 4am. Nice.

Saturday:
Lunch with Casey, a quick trip to watch KGB play hockey with hot old men (some of them, anyway. Def married with kids) and then the 4th Annual Nuthouse Halloween Party:

Christine was a seeeeexy lobster...trapped in Maritime Hell. I took a video that night that I plan on using to damage her political career.

Habs lost Saturday night, all the flaws came to light, but since then we have smoked Carolina and the Wild (vs which we PKed so hard, even on a 5-on-3) and I have returned to a state of happy hockey bliss.

And Sunday, began with a last minute adventure mission to Taco Bell (the one only for a zillion miles, out in the west island) and ended with us invading the residence of the KGB, busting up his gay boyfriend video game orgy and playing with his underwear and GI Joes:

Epic.

on strange weekends you don't want to end

2008-10-21T20:20:00.003-04:00

So, I've been arguing with everyone I can about Sauer's hit on Andrei Kostitsyn. If you missed it because you live under a temperature controlled rock, check it out:

And now I must throw in my two cents. How is that not questionable at the very least? Sure, AK's head was down but that's a bullshit excuse to avoid penalizing Sauer. If the NHL was truly trying to eliminate cheap shots to the head, they should have made an example of Sauer. In all honesty if one of our players tried that shit I'd be pissed. We need to avoid tragedies here people. You want to avoid calling it, fine, but don't call it CLEAN. His elbows were up.

Alright I'm done.

I had a pretty fantastic weekend filled with people I love and small amounts of debauchery. It was also filled with a lot of introspection and revelation for me. Shock, awe, and surprise. It was definitely memorable. Friday night I had the ladies over for sewing and drinking and watching the most boring hockey game ever. Saturday I went shopping with Ninjaroni and Shawna. We hit up H&M and Yellow and other places. I bought a super short skirt, not something I ever pictured myself wearing but Ninja and Shawna loved it so I did. Then I wore it out Saturday night to a mighty fine show at Chaos, starring Nerve Control:

And Castevets:

Casey dressed up like a lady because it was Goldsmith's birthday:

And made sure he knew it was all for him:

We went to a party apres at Garland's and then Nikki, KGB and I had a slumber part-ay at my place, topping it off with breakfast at Picasso's and the scariest picture of KGB maybe ever:

Some hangouts with Chris and Shawna, and then some hangouts with Ninja. All good times.
I suck at conclusions.

Peace.

in remembering to write on this thing

2008-10-17T19:41:00.003-04:00

I'm blogging just to blog.

Went to the ballet last night with Sharron, it was a pretty neat one, The Queen of Spades. There were visual effects, it was stunning. There were also stuck up society people who "just adored it, what a treat" that I kinda wanted to trip, fall into and burp in front of them loudly to see what they would do.

It's a Friday night and I'm staying in, we've decided to have a cheap night tonight so Ninja, Spamielle and Christine are on their way over from various directions to sew and drink and bitch.

While I wait I'm half watching the Senators/Coyotes game. It's SO BORING. No one makes noise in their stadium, and they barely get excited over goals. I wanted to check out the Coyotes cause we're playing them tomorrow on home ice. So far I'm not worried.

Christine's here...and apprently forgot how to use my buzzer. EXCITE BIKE!

in keeping up with kicking Boston's ass

2008-10-15T22:38:00.005-04:00

THANK YOU TANGUAY!
That OT shootout goal as restored my faith in our ability to handle OT shootouts (and my breathing has finally slowed to normal). I had hope when Pacioretty did it, then we sent him back to Hamilton. Now I know at least Tanguay can work his shit when the pressure is on, nicely done. Am I paranoid? Yes. Price in nets during a shootout gives me chest pains. He pulled it off though, and with some more beautiful saves tonight (that save from the Charra shot, holy fuck).

Everyone is saying it, it's playoff hockey and we're October. This season is going to be UNREAL.

I wonder what was going through Ryder's mind tonight...

Ninjaroni was at the game tonight because sometimes she shits horseshoes and gets mad hookups. SO JEALOUS. I watched solo with a side of frenzied text messaging banter courtesy of Ninja and KGB. When not texting I was yelling at my TV. I hope my neighbors love hockey as much as I do! Christine, you should be glad you didn't come over after all, I was out of my mind the whole time.

Hopes for the next Habs Bruins match-up: Komisarek knocks Lucic out cold. I WANT TO SEE THAT HAPPEN SO BAD. They were so all up in each other's grills I was half expecting one to plant a wet one on the other. Komi and Lucic received 10 minute misconducts. Komi's stitches also ripped open (so said the announcer dudes). The TSN dudes commented on Komi and Markov's mad skills and the fact that they will be getting the attention they deserve this season. I'm scared shitless for Komisarek's free agency. SHITLESS. If he leaves I'll be devastated.

In the meantime I'll shut up and keep my Komi worries (and steamy daydreams) to myself while you go read Dave Kellerman's blog, admittance of mad Bromance has won me over already. Then make a stop on J.T.'s Happy Hundredth kick-off post. She's what Ninja and I will sound like in X number of years. This means she is the shit. I checked out her own Habs blog and glowed so hard I floated off my bed when I read this :

"The first time Komisarek crushes someone and creates that little gap in the space-time continuum in which everyone in the building can only stare open-mouthed at the destruction he leaves in his wake." (- J.T. The H does NOT stand for Habs) Yes, yes and YES.

On a non-hockey note, I'm looking forward to this weekend so hard. Friday night I'm hoping to have the ladies over for crafting and sewing madness to get suited up for Halloween. Only a couple of weeks away and I need to finish my Snow White, complete my Alice (for work) and come up with another costume for the Sayer's party.

And Saturday night brings all kinds of awesomeness as Nerve Control, Castevets, Joel Kaiser & the Devil's Own, and Headshrinkers tear shit up at Cafe Chaos. It's also Goldsmith's (Nerve Control) birthday! Yaaaay Goldsmith.

And briefly back to hockey: I GOT TICKETS TO THE NEXT HABS VS FLYERS GAME!!!!
I have the best mom ever, who got online, all the way down in Memphis might I add, and did it for me while I was at work. So many internal cartwheels.

That's all for now, I'm going to pass out from exhaustion. What a game!

in keeping up with something new

2008-10-14T00:34:00.004-04:00

Let it be known that I am trying to blog on a quasi-regular basis. Let it be known that the word quasi makes me happy.

And now for an entry that is all over the map...

Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadian turkey brains. T-day was perfecto here in Montreal, gray, drizzly and full of fall-ness that makes me oh-so-happy.

I dragged Ninja to WM Park for a photo adventure in which I made her wear masks and frolic.

I made us dinner and then we got down to business watching the Habs vs. Flyers game. All my hatred for Briere, Upshall, Downie, Richards, and Biron (cause he's good) came rushing back rather quickly. Had Umberger not been traded to the Blue Jackets I would have been extra hate-happy.

In the end we took them out to pasture, topping it off with a slightly hilarious open net goal by Begin. Komisarek got a goal (so much good) and took some serious hits tonight, a stick to the face (not the face! puhlease) and a spectacular check into the boards which he clearly did not see coming cause holy fucking ow. He played on though, and that's why I adore him so. You've been warned about the Komisarek content here, so hush. The Tenderness also got a stick in the mouth, youch. And it's been decided that #3 Ryan O'Byrne is easy on the eyes, and more importantly Robert Lang is a wonderful addition to the team. He gets shit done. It's also been stated (by both the mighty Ninja and myself) that Halak needs way more ice time. He looks confident out there, I don't worry half as much when the other team is in our zone. It's not that Price is bad, not at all, but he plays an emotional game and seems to psych himself out when we need him most. That being said, he made some fucking awesome saves tonight. Especially the one in the 2nd that they had to call in about. There were a few awesome (what could be described as gang) fights, so much hockey fights. So much good. Ninja and I were cheering and high fiving all over the place tonight. Go Habs Go!

I am no hockey writer, so you should go and check out Mike Boone's take on things. My favorite thing to do is hit refresh on his page during the game and laugh so very hard out loud at J.T.'s comments.

It's almost 1am and I have to face the reality of work in the morning. Damn you three-day weekend, you got me all messed up. I just caught the second airing of this week's Gossip Girl. Can we talk about how horrible Blair's final outfit on the episode was? What the fuck was that? Separately those pieces could be quite lovely, but together? What a disaster. I was wondering if the show would work or not when the main characters head off to college, I couldn't wrap my head around it, but after tonight's episode I see hope for good story lines, lots of possibilities. Hope enough to keep me interested!

in keeping with the times

2008-10-12T13:51:00.001-04:00

My first blog lasted about two years. The next, four. There were a couple after that didn't quite make it.

Out of sheer boredom and desire to create something without getting out of bed, Heart & Hallucination is born.

Don't expect rhyme or reason. Expect detailed accounts of a night out, expect moments of discomposure, expect style on the occasion, expect photos, and expect hockey. Expect more Mike Komisarek than you want in your life. And if you're truly unfortunate, expect fits of "creative writing".